A useful approach to the seemingly random, unconnected popping up of news items is to look for patterns that emerge. But you must keep in mind the larger trends to discover how they’re interrelated. Three things over the past week suggest the continuing consolidation of power by the administration while weakening the scope and scale of the influence of the Dutertes and their allies in government.

The first comes in two parts, because it’s composed of two actions by the Supreme Court. There was a decision to declare the removal of former Deputy Ombudsman Melchor Carandang illegal, and thus null and void. And there was another of its actions: its elastic definition of “forthwith” with regard to the Constitution’s provisions on impeachment. The rehabilitation of Carandang required a repudiation of one notable instance of “sampling” by former President Rodrigo Duterte, who wielded his power to eliminate representative individuals or officials to more widely intimidate anyone who might dare oppose him.

The political implications of the Supreme Court’s decision are that it allowed Duterte to get away with an abuse of power when it was politically convenient for him, but at the same time, the Supreme Court can be considered to have declared itself free of any informal obligations to him. On the other hand, the elastic definition of “forthwith” can be understood to be a declaration of internal solidarity: institutionally, it remains hostile to the idea of impeachment, and is not about to disown its previous obstructionist attitude to the entire process.

Second, the unanimous decision by the House justice committee to send the articles of impeachment against Vice President Sara Duterte to plenary (and Senate President Vicente Sotto III’s pointed statement that he will continue to define “forthwith” when it comes to the Senate’s actions once it receives articles of impeachment from the House) was an institutional declaration of intent. If the evidence supplied wasn’t damning (which it was), the Vice President’s political alliances proved no hindrance to the proceedings—a demonstration of weakness on her part.

Third, the disgrace of Michael Defensor, his wife, and son, cannot be detached from his failed attempt to corral alleged Philippine Marines to provide testimony damaging to the administration. The problem was that neither the accusations nor the accusers ended up being credible. But the attempt was made, and someone had to pay. So, the Defensors paid. Impunity ends where insinuations that others practice it begin.

What these events combined to communicate was that in their respective arenas, the House and Senate majorities are strong, the Supreme Court remains strong and without debts to pay to either the executive or the legislature, and past affiliations are no protection to those who would try to cause trouble to the present dispensation—in other words, the executive, too, is strong. But in the face of all three, the Vice President and her shrinking number of friends are weak.

Ever since her book on the Lopezes came out in 2001, I’ve found the analytical lens put forward by historian Mina Roces to be exceedingly useful. She proposed using “malakas at mahina” as the key analytical concept for understanding power dynamics in our society. Those who are “malakas”—considered strong—are those who use their positions of power ruthlessly to benefit their kinship group, whether actual relatives or allies.

Being able to bend or break the rules to benefit your kinship group is admired in our society, and demonstrating it repeatedly conveys prestige and influence. It has less to do with social class and more with access to power: someone poor connected to the powerful can be “malakas,” Roces says, while a wealthy person who lacks the necessary connections can be perceived as “mahina.” On the other hand, if someone is unwilling (or unable!) to leverage power to benefit their kinship network, they are considered “mahina” by society. Following the rules, by this measure, does not evoke admiration; it is viewed with contempt.

Roces calls the give-and-take, the push-and-pull of the powerful as “politica de familia,” which she says dates to the precolonial era, with “utang na loob” as the kind of glue that binds everyone together; the manner in which families engage in competition to become strong is known as “palakasan.” This is incompatible with ideas, ideals, and systems introduced by colonialism, which officially puts a premium on the rule of law, a professional bureaucracy, merit and ethical behavior, and on placing the national interest over familial interests. This tension often led leaders to criticize each other based on Western norms while practicing Filipino kinship politics.

Octa Research, in its March 19 to 25 survey, puts support for the VP’s impeachment at 69 percent nationally, 81 percent in the National Capital Region, and 69 percent in Balance of Luzon, a staggering 83 percent in the Visayas, and an astounding 61 percent in Mindanao. That the two remaining bailiwicks of the Dutertes have registered these numbers sends a message about the Veep: “mahina.”